Delusions of Grandeur
by Predominantly Normal
Summary: What if the person whom you loved the most, didn't even exist in the first place? Minor CREEK.


**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

_Author's Notes:_

_-To all who care, (Population: Me) I haven't quit on my other stories. I just want to make sure I sharpen my Angst edge once in a while. Because let's face it. I'm not that good at this sort of thing._

_-I was inspired by the South Park fanfiction, 'Glass'. I lost lots of sleep over that fic, and I wanted to try and write like that. _

_-Try not to get confused by the point of view (It's 2nd POV). This story is in Tweek's POV._

_-I GUESS this could be a thought of as a follow up to 'Blame'._

_-Please review; I don't care if it's negative, so long as it's in a Constructive manner._

_-If my angst skill was a knife, it'd probably only be able to cut Play-Doh._

* * *

You can't stand it. The fact that you might be so crazy, that the person you love most might not even be real. People don't acknowledge you, and you like it that way. Craig is the only one who talks to you. Craig is the only one who takes the time to sit with you. Craig isn't even real. You know this as a fact, and accept it. But Craig doesn't leave your hallucinogenic side. And that's how you like it.

Token and Clyde think you're weird. They always pretend you're not there. Craig always steps up to them every time they forget, but his nonexistent threats are useless and hollow. You don't care though. Craig is all you need to be happy. Even if he isn't real.

Craig sits next to you, throwing rocks at the clear water of Starks Pond. He talks about how his day had been, but there's no need. You've been with him all day. You let him ramble on, however. The smile he gives you is so real. You want to believe it's real, but it isn't.

"How was your day, Tweekers?" He asks. You love when he calls you that.

You reply with a snort, and tell him that your day was just like his. Craig waits before responding, looking at you with an adoring gaze. He puts a hand over yours, although his touch is airy and weak. The sound of crunching sound approaches you, and you turn around to look at the faces of Token and Clyde.

"Hey Craig." Clyde says nervously. You know he just wants to make you feel normal. "Um- hi Tweek." He looks to his left at you, staring past your eyes and into the lake behind you.

Craig nods. "Need something?" He asks. "I'm hanging out with Tweek." He glances back at me.

Clyde and Token share a nervous glance before looking back at you. "Follow us." They order.

You stand up, and Craig follows. Both of you follow the two, like they asked. Craig leans over, and you feel his warm, comforting breath on your neck. Now you're confused. Clyde and Token are leading you to the cemetery. Perhaps they want to show you Craig's headstone. Prove he isn't real. You don't want to look as they point to the gravesite. It might make Craig leave you. Your form flickers slightly as you force yourself to look.

Craig's face is shocked. He turns his head to look at you, mouth gaping. He lifts his hand and tried to press it against your shoulder, but it's just like all of his other touches. Airy, light, nonexistent. Suddenly his blue eyes fill with tears and he falls to his knees, whimpering. Clyde and Token refuse to look. Suddenly, he opens his eyes and stares right through you. Just like everyone else. You dare and look at the sight behind him.

The world crumbles beneath you. Blackness edges your vision. Craig leaves, too. Images flash in your mind. Police sirens. A gun. Blood. A pull of a trigger. Your hand. Your chest. The snow. Craig. Your very existence falters as you stare at the engraved headstone.

**Tweek Tweak. **

Craig visits you every day. He always brings you coffee. Too bad you can never enjoy it. He never forgets to come in the early dawn. You hate holding him back. You hate seeing the dark circles that accumulate under his eyes because of lack of sleep. He doesn't care about himself though. He always insists bringing you a cup of coffee daily, even when he's sick. He still loves you.

You're dead. You don't exist. But you still have Craig. And Craig is all you need. Craig is all you will ever need.

And you like it that way.


End file.
